The Job
by Soranator
Summary: It was practically suicide and you knew it, but you never turned down a job that paid that many zeros, did you? Christophe/Kyle, character death.


**A/N: My first death fic! Yup, I've been angsting a lot recently so I thought I'd get something really depressing done. Hope you enjoy it!**

**---**

It was practically suicide and you knew it, but you never turned down a job that paid that many zeros, did you?

It makes me sick to think that I agreed to help you with it. I keep trying to convince myself that you would have done it either way, whether you had my help or not, and that you had a higher chance of surviving if I was watching from my monitor, moving you around like a chess piece. But the more I think about it, the more I start to believe that this isn't true. You weren't stupid enough to do it alone.

---

"_Will you help me?"_

"_Fuck, Christophe. Do I have a choice?"_

_He smirked and shook his head, lighting a cigarette._

_---_

What's worse is that Gregory gave you the job in the first place. You could see it in his expression, what sort of job it was as he handed you the wad of papers filled with mission details. I could see it too. But I'm still new at this job, I'm not used to seeing people walking to their deaths just for a few million dollars. Maybe one day I'll be able to wear Gregory's poker face as well as him.

---

"'_ow much does eet pay?" _

"_Thirteen million."_

"_Thirteen million!? That's not enough for you to throw your life away, dude!"_

"_Kyle, I'm going to die young. I figure I should do it for as much money as possible."_

_---_

And he says that he's in love with you. He stole you from me and you both laughed, I bet, when I spent so many days alone just feeling sorry for myself, willing myself to cry and to get it over with. I never did though. I couldn't. Maybe that's why I never really got over you.

---

"_How can you give him that job? Not only is he your best mercenary, but he's your boyfriend! If you loved him so much you wouldn't sentence him to this!"_

_Kyle and Gregory had never got along, but that was the only time they'd fought. Gregory punched him, straight in the nose, so hard that he coughed up blood for ten minutes afterwards. In retaliation, Kyle swung his fist into Gregory's eye, knocking him backwards and leaving a pretty black mark around his blue eyes._

_---_

You were hardly in the building before you got shot down. I had to watch from a small laptop monitor in a van less than 5 minutes away from the building and there was nothing I could do. I gnawed on my bottom lip as I willed you to get back up and continue down the corridor like you always do, but I guess it was one bullet too many. Your blood was black on the greyscale footage.

---

_Kyle watched Christophe's breath slowing on the laptop screen and fought the urge to go in and help him. He wished that he wasn't so intelligent and would just run into the building. It'd only take him a minute to drag the French man out, but if Christophe couldn't even last that then what chance did he have?_

"_Kyle?" Kyle's headset was still on. He gasped and held the headphones closer to his ear._

_---_

I followed them into the surrounding woods as they hauled your corpse around like a rag doll. They dug a hole for you and I couldn't help but think you would have wanted that done with your own shovel. Then again, you wouldn't have wanted anyone to touch that but you. You'd probably have preferred to dig your own grave. One of the guys who dragged you got a phone call and they dispersed, leaving only your bottom half buried in the mud. I gave them five minutes and then climbed down from the branch I had been sitting on.

It was horrible, looking down at you like that. Your face was still and your mouth was open slightly, enough for me to see the cigarette that had fallen down your throat as you took fourteen bullets to the chest. I just watched you for ages, trying to work out what to do. When we'd spoken about you dying before, you said that you wouldn't get a funeral, they'd just bury the pieces of you. You wouldn't have wanted one anyway.

I took your earpiece out of your ear. Gregory would be pissed if I left a piece of equipment on site. Then I did exactly the opposite of what you'd said and took the dog tags from around your neck. I mean, what were you going to do, haunt me? Hm. I wouldn't mind.

---

"_Y-yeah?"_

"_I'm… sorry." Now Kyle bit his fist to stop himself from crying out. He shook his head and continued to watch Christophe's chest rise and fall slower and slower on the monitor._

"_Forget about it, dude. I know you never hurt me intentionally. It's just how things play out sometimes." Christophe nodded, breathing deeply._

"_Christophe?"_

"_Don't call me zat." He snapped._

"… _Mole?"_

"… _What… eez eet?"_

"… _Do you love Gregory?"_

_Christophe went silent for a moment and Kyle thought that that was it, he'd gone. A minute later, the brunette coughed._

"_Eet's not as easy as zat."_

"_Just… say that you do. Please. I don't want to always think that I had a chance."_

"_Kyle, I-"_

"_Please, 'tophe."_

_Christophe took a shuddering breath and Kyle dug his nails into the desk._

"… _Oui."_

_The Jew smiled and had to mouth his words a few times before he could make a sound._

"_T-Thank you," then he said what he promised himself he'd never say again._

"_I love you, 'tophe."_

_---_

We both knew you'd die young. I just wish I could cry and get over you.

**---**

**A/N: Let me know what I can improve on, please. I'll love you forever if you just leave a review, kay?**


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